happy as lark

It’s a rainy drizzly morning, but I’m as happy as a lark. I think that a good week may be happening to me.

Yesterday afternoon I parked next to 616 Washington and waited for David and Todd to arrive and begin our house browsing tour. Kari showed up right before either of them, and sat in the car with me while we waited a couple min for the men to arrive. I had anticipated this often the day before and I was not disappointed. We looked at four houses, all quite appealing in their own way. We were especially impressed by one on Central owned by a dear old lady (we never met her) who had the most charming taste in antiques and busts and pink. She had candles burning and swing band music playing and places set for two with her best china and silverware on the pink tiled island. It was impeccable and adorable. So much a joy to tour, it made me feel simultaneously as though this certainly might be the house for us and that it would be a crime to send such a dear lady away from the home that she shared with her loved ones and made her very own. I was so charmed, I even thought I could make myself like the pink enameled sink in the kitchen… The spell lasted until I got home, and then I realized that such décor (at least in the kitchen) would ever be an affront to my senses if I had to live with it every day.

Later, at home, I spent an hr and a half a realtor.com looking up houses under and over and in our price range, and sent poor Todd a list of 23 that I wanted more info on.

After the tour, D, K, and I went to Taco Bell and chowed down a combo of ten tacos and burritos between us. Then, after picking up our respective cars back on Washington, we went and visited Oscar, who has grown to be bigger than Onyx, the cat, but is still fuzzy and cuddly and altogether a cutymous (very cute) little puppy (that won’t be little for long). It was quite amusing to watch him be chomped on by Onyx, who, though he may be de-clawed in the front, has no small ability to defend himself against puppy-play. It amuses K to call them her “little black boys” – they are both black haired and male.

While we were at K’s anticipation of more fun for the week came to my attention when K invited me to help model wedding and bridesmaid dresses at Morgan Bridal’s annual fashion show. I must confess, it piqued my vanity, but, really, I’m most excited about playing dress-up with my little sister and pretending we are the loveliest princesses of all. This proves to all doubters, myself included, that I do contain a purely-girly streak. Several years ago I might have cringed to admit it, but now I look forward to letting it glow: thanks to marriage, and the influence of K, and a verrry girly, pink-loving friend named Lauren.

In more interesting happenings:
This morning, as I was preparing to shower, I noticed a spider staring at me from the corner nearest the showerhead. Alone, my panic-alarm was mine to mute and, so, immediate action was required. I rolled up a piece of paper-towel, and from a stretched arms distanced shoo-ed him into hiding underneath the bit of wallpaper peeling back from the corner. You might be thinking it would’ve just been easier to scwosh him, but D has concerned himself that I have principles about these heinous inhabitants of our home. After all, they only appear occasionally and they help keep the fly population at a minimum (though, unfortunately, they are no help with the ladybugs). And from a distance “aren’t they fascinating..?” Hideous as he was, he was of the smallish sort and I was content to take my shower as long as he wasn’t looking. Keeping a wary eye on that corner I began my shower. Throughout, he kept trying playing peeping-tom and I repeatedly was forced to use stern language and splash water at him: which I’m sure he secretly liked, since, after all, that’s what he was hanging around the shower for anyway- a drink. In fact, one of the times he crawled out I maintained my naked composure long enough to watch him paw around the wet wall and put his ugly claw up to his mouth- if that’s what it’s called- trying to quench his thirst. Near the end of the shower I was beginning to feel some mild pity for him – “water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink” – but I continued to speak harshly. When he poked his head out a fourth or fifth time I clapped my hands and instructed him that he must stay out of sight until I was finished and then- only then- he may come out and drink all the water in the shower, for all I cared. And he obeyed… And I was relieved. SO- that’s the story of my shower with the spider so hairy and vile.